From The Ashes
by Skye City
Summary: Sherlock returns, and for a few seconds - his emotions take complete control. It could be read as Johnlock.


**(A/N) This is kind of a continuation of my other story, 'Mortal Coils' but from Sherlock's perspective. A big cuddle for RainyDays-and-DayDreams for all the support! **

You are the avalanche  
One world away  
My make believing  
While I'm wide awake

Seeing him laugh. I can feel my fiery wings bursting from my shoulder blades, spreading out like a canvas of sound, brilliance and light. I can feel my body dragging itself out of the deep an unfathomable pit of ashes in which I was encased for so long. Each flake of ash that settled on my features cut me like a slither of ice that was so cold it burned. I laugh with him, and each sound I produce is punctured with the purest relief. I am so grateful it went this way. I am grateful my nose is still in one piece and that I am wrapped up in his arms with neither of us showing no intention of changing that.

My life was a curse. Every coil, spring and spark inside my chest was blighted the second I figured out my death was inevitable. But John was the perpetual incense, the lingering smoky and heady substance that kept me moving on. Each breath I drew felt like it would shatter my lungs like glass because each breath I drew was alone in its clouding in the air. John's ghostly haze wasn't there to combine with mine. Every second I existed without him, I learnt of how much I desired him. Not his body; him and him alone. His face, a beacon, his eyes, two pairs of intense moonbeams and his touch; a waft of joy and adrenalin that I could see overwhelming me in one simple brush of his skin against mine.

Every night I would spend alone, foolishly looking up at those stars and wondering if he were too. I would feel that _defect_ sentiment pulsing through that knot of worry inside my torso as I would relive those moments when mine and John's world crashed and flamed. To this day I do not know which one of us took the full impact of that arsenic coated apple that was my life, our life.

Every footstep I left imbedded in the soil was just another pin into my pin cushion heart; because there were none following. John's trails were not beside mine. I was so alone.

I had never wished so hard for the ability to feel and to cry as much as when I heard him say those words. Each pause, each word, each time his voice staggered felt like a kick in my gut; a searing jolt that threatened to close up my throat forever. People like John are the reasons I abandoned emotion. They have an addictive aura, a glow that nothing seems to penetrate and it is always there. They have a smile like thousands of suns at once but you don't have to hide your gaze away, in fact you cannot help but stare and copy. They have a presence that fills the room like a solid wall of water whenever they walk in.

And I bathed in his. I realised he was something I needed. The human embodiment of a line of cocaine but so harmless the atmosphere around him floats. Yet he can switch from docile to a charged volt of electricity in a single, adrenalin-filled heartbeat. He completed me in a way no drug could.

My withdrawal symptoms were the hardest thing I have ever encountered; tears. The supreme lack of John in my existence would leave me with watery tears cutting clear ribbons down my face whilst I slept and in nearly every waking hour. The tears became a staple; I could not sleep easy that night without my body telling me there was someone missing from my life. Each sob, each guttural noise I shed in my centuries long solitude staved off more and more of my heart until there was only a whisper of it left.

_And then I came home_

I could feel the nerve ends reconnecting the second I stepped back into John's pool of light. I could feel the muscle strengthening and beginning to beat again; pounding this fresh wave of love through the canals of my bloodstream. When his eyes opened and met with mine, it was like a penny had dropped, something inside me opened up and the life I had been living for the past months tumbled out like tea into an ocean of forgotten times - melting and dispersing into the distant depths of sweetest oblivion. For half a second, John made me forget everything. It was a blast of perfume that rejuvenated every fibre that resides under the pale surface of my skin.

My tears could no longer fall.

Perhaps I had run out by then?

I had let a million tears slip down my face.

But to relive that explosive feeling of adoration I would happily shed a million more.

Our embrace is more of a tight band that one has formed around the other. It is as strong as iron but made only of our love for the other. We have more or less formed an eternity ring; and I hope that it is that. An eternity, a wreath that never wilts a, or circle of purest gold. There is an unmistakable buzz of tension in the air, a silent apology being formed upon both of our tongues, within both of the love-sick minds.  
"I'm sorry John." Each word I whisper is a toxin, "But I'm home now."

"I've missed you so much." John replies shakily, as though he still cannot comprehend that this is really happening.

"Thank you."

**Fin**


End file.
